


con·fi·dant

by wigglebox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ...temporary character death obviously, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Conversations, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21033818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: con·fi·dant/ˈkänfəˌdant,ˈkänfəˌdänt/Learn to pronouncenounnoun: confidantea person with whom one shares a secret or private matter, trusting them not to repeat it to others.





	con·fi·dant

About an hour after Cas left Lebanon, he received a text from Sam, asking to please stay in touch with him if Cas ever needed anything. 

It was a nice sentiment, but Cas turned his phone off and dropped it in his pocket. 

Cas wanted to keep his distance. He needed space to breathe.

But, a week later, he found himself pulling out his phone while he sat over a cup of day-old coffee at a corner diner in some small town in a large state. He had no idea where he was. 

A few messages shot back and forth: 

_Hello, Hi, how r u holding up, I’m fine, Anything interesting happening out there, Not really I don’t even know what town I’m in right now and the coffee’s bad_

They avoided the subject at the tips of their fingers. Cas wasn’t sure why he contacted Sam in the first place. The phone powered down again, and Cas left without paying for his drink.

Another week of silence passed, Cas hopping from town to town, weeding out any potential demons that were attempting to hide in plain sight. Hunting them was easy when you could see their real face.

_I feel like a terminator_, he texted one night, sitting on a bench in Cleveland, watching people rush home for dinner. 

_Terminator? _

_No, exterminator. Sorry, autocorrect. _

_Smiting the shit out of some termites?_

Cas saw a demon slip into the alleyway across the road, staring at him through the darkness. 

_Yeah kinda._

Three weeks later, in Pittsburgh, Cas realized he needed some help. 

The number of deaths in the city piqued his interest as he caught a newspaper at a gas station. There were reports of a wolf on the streets, a pack moving in on the outskirts of the city. That was soon squashed down by rumors that the suspect was a gigantic man who escaped from Ohio State Penitentiary (Borris Manchin, three life terms). _He only likes girls_ some sleazeball at the pizza place said while Cas sat, trying to absorb the conversations. It was a weird case. He had a hunch, but not a lot of experience in that field. 

Cas pulled out his phone and turned it back on. No texts from anyone, not even Sam. 

_Think something’s up in Pittsburgh_, Cas tapped out, half hoping Sam would ignore him. 

_Something like?_ The response came a minute later.

_A few deaths around the city in unfavorable neighborhoods. _

_What are they saying about it in the papers_

_Drugs. _

_It may actually just be drugs. _

_Some kids say they saw one of them down by the docks and they were covered in blood. _

_Why would police hide that?_

_I don’t know I don’t really know what it is. _

A few minutes passed by, and Cas tapped his fingers on the table, growing antsy and impatient. He didn’t realize just how much he hadn't talked in the last three weeks other than greeting a waitress or saying hello to someone in some random park. 

He was drifting, wandering from town to town, feeling like the ghosts they would hunt. 

_Leave, it’s what you always do. _

No one wanted Cas, he didn’t want anyone around him. Drifting.

A _bing_ regained Cas’s attention. 

_Want me to come out there?_

Cas knew he should wait a minute so he didn’t appear too eager but his fingers were moving before he could stop them, typing out a quick _Yes_ and hitting send before he had a chance to back out.

The two-day investigation lead them to the police chief. 

They suspected an officer from the get-go with them hiding the real results of the autopsy, but didn’t think it would be all the way up to the police chief. However, when they visited the station under the trustworthy guise of the FBI, the chief practically shoved them out the door before they could ask any real questions. Suspect number one. 

Police know where the derelicts are. Police know how to fabricate official documents. Police know how to grease the palms of the medical examiner. 

Werewolf.

“There may be more than one,” Cas said as they got back in the car. 

“There’s a good chance there’s more than one but we have to take out the first one.”

They wound up in the car that night, settling in as they watched the sun go down and the chief's office light stay on in the station. They were two days away from a moon and didn’t want any more deaths. 

The silence in the car was deafening, and Cas almost wanted to leave, run from the car and Sam. Over the past two days they only met during the day, Cas not needing a motel room to sleep. They acted like they were actually crime-solving detectives, cordial and professional. No dinners together, no long talks. None of that -- there wasn’t going to be any more of that. 

Cas grew antsy and impatient again inside the car. 

This was a bad idea. 

Thoughts were banging around in the back of his mind, memories of the night he left. Shouting on both ends, both knowing they were missing the point. They kept missing each other that way. They lose their arguments before they start but that doesn’t start them from igniting in the first place. 

Dean said plenty, but Sam stayed silent the whole time. Didn’t say anything to Dean, or Cas. He didn’t even look at them, just off to the side with his eyes downcast at the floor, uncomfortable. Cas wondered what happened when he left.

Sitting in the car, Cas wondered if Sam only came out to Pittsburgh out of pity -- 

“I think you should come back.”

The first words of the night sounded just as loud as the silence it broke. 

“It’s been -- bad,” Sam continued, not turning to fully address Cas, “He left last week, and I have no clue where he went.”

The candid confession caused Cas to tense. _Don’t make the situation worse_. 

“How bad is bad?” Cas couldn’t keep the question in his mouth. He didn’t want to know. He really didn’t want to know -- 

“I’m surprised he’s not in the hospital with alcohol poisoning, though, I imagine by now you could ping a nickel off his liver. Barely said two words to me -- it’s been stressful.”

Cas sighed, shaking his head, “It’s not my job to make sure he takes care of himself.”

“I never said it was.”

“Then why --”

“You don’t know what it’s like to see Dean kill himself.” 

The question took half a second to absorb into Cas, his thoughts already elsewhere trying to ignore Sam. The full weight of the words soon formed a rock, and found itself at the pit of Cas’s stomach. 

“What?” He could only ask in a whisper, too scared to know what path Sam was heading down.

“After you died, Dean wasn’t okay, like, at all. He went from angry to sad back to angry in a single conversation. I tried getting him back to normal, but there wasn’t much anyone could do. He took it out on Jack too,” Sam paused, and out of the corner of his eye, Cas could see Sam’s arm come up to his face. 

_Don’t look_. 

“I never saw him like that before, and we’ve lost a lot of people in our life. It was a mess,” Sam stopped again, drawing a breath, “There was a point, right before you came back when he completely -- went for it. He had these syringes --”

“Sam --”

“And one was to stop his heart and another was to start it back up again, right?”

“Sam,” Cas tried again, feeling the rocks piling up, almost to his throat. 

“I couldn’t do anything to stop him. He had the needle in there before I could even think about grabbing them.” Sam’s voice wavered, thick with emotion and Cas wanted to run from the car without hearing another word, “It was for the case, he said, but that eagerness, you know? That’s what made it terrifying and real.”

Sam cleared his throat, adjusting in his seat. Cas felt like the car was shrinking in on them. _Why don’t you _move_, get out of there, you’re not being forced to stay --_

“Three minutes later, I did the other injection to get him back, and nothing happened. I did it again since there was some left and it still wasn’t working. You and I both know what happens on the other side, and first, I was afraid something got him, you know? But then I realized, he may actually be staying and he probably gave me a syringe with water and food coloring.”

“I don’t want to hear this, Sam,” Cas tried, but his voice was small, weak. He turned his head to look outside his window, farther away. Needed to be father away --

“You need to hear this because you _know_. You know just as much as I do why he did that.”

Cas stayed silent, a dull ringing starting to buzz in his ears. 

“He spiraled, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. That’s what he’s doing now. I can’t stop any of it. Nothing I do gets through to him and now it’s in the wind somewhere. I need you to come back. Just _talk_.”

“No.”

A noise of frustration escaped Sam, and Cas saw the streetlight reflecting him in the window glass, looking just as lost and dejected as he felt. Their silence was back for the next few minutes. A car drove by them, offering a quick noise distraction, but it was short-lived.

“You think you hide it so well. You both do.” Sam started again, quiet as if the windows and mirrors around them would shatter if he didn’t. 

Cas didn’t move. 

“You’re not fooling anyone. I don’t know the ins and outs of the entire thing, but it’s been pretty evident for a while. Every time you’re in the same room, it’s ridiculous to think you could ever hide anything. Dean thinks he’s good at it but you could read him a mile away if you wanted to.”

The door in the police station started to open, and in the small beam of light, the chief slip out of the doorway and down the stone stairs, heading east on the sidewalk. Sam cleared his throat and turned the ignition before finally turning to face Cas. 

_Don’t _look_ \--_

But he did. 

He looked. 

“Please come back. We want you back. _He_ wants you back, and I know you want _him_ back.”

Cas hesitated, scared of what would happen if he did, scared of what he’d say if he did, or what Dean would say -- scared of everything. There was so much left completely unsaid between the two of them, stuff Cas wrote off, buried under a rug. 

But -- maybe something could be fixed, Sam’s words giving him the first seed of hope in months.

Cas didn’t know which way he was going anymore, but he could take a small step in a direction, and see where it led him. Stop drifting.

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> This little scene thing was inspired by a semi-crack post from tinkdw on Tumblr along with 7faerielights  
[You can see it here!](https://wigglebox.tumblr.com/post/188341417407/if-both-of-those-secret-things-came-out-i-wouldl)
> 
> Basically it's a desire for some of the biggest things held to the chest between Dean and Cas will eventually come to light one way or another. 
> 
> I can honestly see it going so many different ways -- this is just one of them so. 
> 
> This is not beta'd so any corrections please kindly let me know! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! <3 
> 
> Tumblr - Wigglebox


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